Born to Be Wild
by TheCartoonusMaximus
Summary: Marik and Malik take a little drive on their motorcycle, enjoying the wind in their hair and talking about their relationship.


**"Born to Be Wild"** a "Yu-Gi-Oh!" fanfiction 3-28-2014

Do I own Yu-Gi-Oh? ... ah, no.

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_"Getcher motor runnin,'"_ Malik sang out, leaning over the edge of the sidecar he was sitting in. The Shadow Creature enjoyed riding in Marik's sidecar more than almost anything else; the only other thing that gave him such a thrill had been stabbing Marik's father to death.

Marik kept his eyes carefully trained on the road, but turned to look at the deranged yami he'd been saddled with when they hit a red light. It was difficult, for sure, taking care of an insane shadow twin, and the young tomb keeper often wondered if it was even worth it.

He watched as Malik leaned back in his seat, relaxing. His spiky hair hadn't even responded to the rough winds of the highway and shifted in any way, shape or form, remaining in its usual porcupine style.

The most interesting thing about Malik's appearance was his facial expression; he looked so... peaceful. His tongue was actually inside his mouth, which was closed for the moment, and his veins weren't bulging out of his skin. It was strange to see him this way.

"I take it you're enjoying the ride?" Marik ventured to ask.

His 'evil twin' turned to look at him, his head moving in a lazy fashion. His lips drew into a lazy sort of smile. "You know I am. I'm almost an exact copy of you. You love motorcycles. You love the wind in your hair. Most everything about me I inherited from you."

Marik turned away, revving the engine again when the light turned green. "You're not the same as me."

_"Get out on the highway!"_ Malik burst out, as if ignoring his human counterpart. He turned back to Marik after a minute, though. "And what do you mean by saying that we're not the same?"

"Well... I... We're just too different."

Malik smirked, licking his lips as he looked over the human boy who was driving the motorcycle. "As they say, denial isn't just a river in Egypt. Listen, Ishtar: whether or not you're comfortable with the idea, I am nothing more than a carbon copy of you that was created from Shadows."

This caused the Egyptian teen to turn off the road, bringing his bike to a screeching halt. "You are _nothing_ like me!"

Malik pouted when the bike stopped, but he knew that this was a conversation they were going to have to have sooner or later anyway.

"Look," the yami began, clutching the bridge of his nose. "Don't get mad at me because you're starting to realize all those faults of yours, now that you're looking in the mirror. I'm just the messenger who has to tell you that you're not perfect."

Marik looked away, crossing his arms over his chest in frustration. "It's not my fault."

"No, it isn't," the Shadow Creature agreed. "At least, not completely. But you can't blame it all on your father and the Pharaoh, either."

He reached out hesitantly, setting his hand on the human's shoulder. When Marik didn't fight back, he drew the human into a hug.

"I've done so many bad things," Marik whispered into his yami's shoulder, tears stinging at his ears. He quickly blinked them away. "Ishizu and Odion couldn't forgive me now, could they? And I have no one else to turn to. … I don't know what to do. I'm scared."

"It's alright, little light," Malik murmured soothingly. "It's okay to be scared. Just don't let anyone else know it; it wouldn't do for the Supreme Ruler of the World to look frightened."

He pulled the Millennium Rod out from Marik's back pocket, thrusting it into the hands of the young teen. "With this, you and I will bring this world to its knees, and rule it with an iron hand. Or, maybe a _golden_ hand."

Marik nodded, gazing down at the Rod. "I know. And I'm ready."

"Good." Malik looked down the road a little ways, noting a biker bar not too far away. "C'mon, then. Let's go get something to eat. You could use a little meat on your bones anyway."

He tickled Marik's abdomen teasingly, smiling when the human giggled and squirmed out of his grip.

Getting back on the bike and driving the rest of the way to the bar, the pair soon found themselves seated at the counter. Large men covered in tattoos and black leather surrounded them on all sides, making them look just a bit out of place.

To make matters worse, everyone in the bar was speaking English, a language which Marik had yet to learn, leaving the two of them rather limited.

The bartender tried to take their order, which Marik tried his best to describe, but the two of them were having something of a language barrier. Marik solved this problem though by using the Millennium Rod to take over the man's mind, easily acquiring all of the food and drinks that he and his yami desired.

"Hey!" One of the bikers cried out from two seats down, seeing the glassy look on the bartender's face. "What did you do to him?!"

Or at least, that's what Marik thought he was saying, judging from his body language and facial expression. Since he was speaking English, it was very difficult to tell. The man was wearing dark sunglasses and a bandana with an American flag on, and Marik recognized him easily.

"Bandit Keith," he whispered, more to himself than to his yami. He yelped though when the American suddenly grabbed him by the front of his shirt and held him up in the air, still pointing at the brain-dead bartender and yelling in Marik's face.

It was becoming difficult to breathe, but, before Marik could suffocate, Malik stepped in. He gripped Keith's shoulder tightly, glaring at him.

"You will release him now, if you know what's good for you," Malik said under his breath.

Much to Marik's surprise, Keith did release him, quickly backing away and getting as much space between himself and Malik as he could.

Marik turned to stare at his yami in surprise. "But... he only speaks English, and you spoke in Egyptian. How did he know what you were saying?"

"Simple. 'Fear' is a universal language, and it needs no translation." Malik climbed back onto his bar stool, taking a swig of beer before turning back to his human counterpart. "Would you like to hear the story of how I came to be?"

"... I have been meaning to ask you. Why not? It's not like anyone here understands a word we're saying anyway."

Malik nodded and began his tale. "You were young when you first brought me into existence. At that time, I was nothing more than the simple, everyday shadow that was attached to your feet, following you around on the walls. You were lonely, and I was always present, so you called me by a name similar to yours and decided that I was going to be your friend. Another boy, just like you, who never left; an imaginary friend."

Marik stared down at his plate, dividing up a hamburger – he gave the bun and meat to Malik, but he kept the vegetables that came on the burger for himself. "I remember that a little."

"Then, when you were older, your father forced you through that ritual, during which time you became connected in part to the Shadow Realm through the magic of the Millennium Items. With such power surging through you, being fed by your raw emotions of anger, fear, and hatred, I went from being an ordinary shadow and an imaginary friend to being a very real Shadow Creature."

"This is the part where you get a body of your own, steal the Millennium Rod, and kill my father, right?"

Malik smirked at the human. "You know me so well. Yes, we've already reached your favorite part of the story, the part where I kidnap you and leave your late father on the floor in a pool of his own blood."

Shuddering, Marik couldn't help but ask a single question. "Is it bad that I don't find this whole thing as disturbing as I should?"

"You tell me, little light. The only differences between you and I are that you tend to feel bad about doing wrong and that you're slightly less insane than I am."

"Try a _lot_ less."

This made Malik chuckle. "Oh, c'mon. You know you like me when I'm crazy."

"Which is all of the time." Marik glanced out the window. "It's getting dark. We should probably get back on the road and find a motel to crash in."

Nodding in agreement, Malik stood up and following his counterpart out the door, neither one paying any attention to the calls for them to pay their bill. Both climbed back into their respective seats of their shared motorcycle, setting back out onto the highway.

The bike soon stopped again, Marik complaining about being tired and being unable to see. Malik switched seats with him, driving and navigating in the dark easily.

Sometimes, being a Shadow Creature had its advantages.

_"Searching for adventure,"_ Marik sang lowly, his voice being snatched up by the wind as his yami drove. _"Or whatever comes out way..."_

He turned to his yami, an evil smile spreading across his face. "You know something, yami? You and I were definitely born to be wild!"

"Agreed, little light!"

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**The End.**

**Hey, look. I actually wrote Marik and Malik just for the sake of writing Marik and Malik...**

**Marik, why are you being my muse tonight? What have you done with Bakura?!**

Enjoy, read, review, whatever.


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